Part 39 (2/2)

We left the boy with Philury. Josiah took us to the cars, and we arrove there at 1 P.M. We went to the tarven, and got dinner, and then sot out for Mr. Post'ses office.

[Ill.u.s.tration: CONDELICK POST.]

He greeted Cicely with so much politeness and courtesy, and smiled so at her, that I knew in my own mind that all she would have to do would be to tell her errent. I knew he would do every thing jest as she wanted him to. His smile was truly bland-I don't think I ever see a blander one, or amiabler.

I guess she was kinder encouraged, too, for she begun real sort o' cheerful a tellin' what she come for,-that she wanted him to rent these buildin's for some other purpose than drinkin' and billiard saloons.

And he went on in jest as cheerful a way, almost jokeuler, to tell her ”that he couldn't do any thing of the kind, and he was doing the business to the best of his ability, and he couldn't change it at all.”

And then Cicely, in a courteus, reasonable voice, begun to argue with him; told him jest how bad she felt about it, and urged him to grant her request.

But no, the pyramids couldn't be no more sot than he wuz, nor not half so polite.

And then she dropped her own sufferings in the matter, and argued the right of the thing.

She said when she was married, her husband took the whole of her property, and invested it for her in these very buildings. And in reality, it was her own property. The most of her husband's wealth was in the mills and government bonds. But she wanted her money invested here, because she wanted a larger interest. And she was intending to let the interest acc.u.mulate, and found a free library, and build a chapel, for the workmen at the mills.

And says she, ”Is it right that my own property should be used for what I consider such wicked purposes?”

”Wicked? why, my dear madam! it brings in a larger interest than any other investment that I have been able to make. And you know your husband's will provides handsomely for you-the yearly allowance is very handsome indeed.”

”It is all I wish, and more than I care for. I am not speaking of that.”

”Yes, it is very handsome indeed. And by the time Paul is of age, in the way I am managing the property now, he will be the richest young man in this section of the State. The revenue of which you make complaints, will be of itself a handsome property, a large patrimony.”

”It will seem to be loaded with curses, weighed down with the weight of heavy hearts, broken hearts, ruined lives.”

”All imagination, my dear madam! You have a vivid imagination. But there will be nothing of the kind, I a.s.sure you,” says he, with a patronizing smile. ”It will all be invested in government bonds,-good, honest dollars, with nothing more haunting than the American eagle on them.”

”Yes, and these words, 'In G.o.d we trust.' But do you know,” says she, with the red spot growin' brighter on her cheek, and her eyes brighter,-”do you know, if one did not possess great faith, they would be apt to doubt the existence of a G.o.d, who can allow such injustice?”

”What injustice, my dear madam?” says he, smilin' blandly.

”You know, Mr. Post, just how my husband died: you know he was killed by intemperance. A drinking-saloon was just as surely the cause of his death, as the sword is, that pierces through a man's heart. Intemperance was the cause of his crime. He, the one I loved better than my own self, infinitely better, was made a murderer by it. I have lost him,” says she, a throwin' out her arms with a wild gesture that skairt me. ”I have lost him by it.”

And her eyes looked as big and wild and wretched, as if she was lookin' down the endless ages of eternity, a tryin' to find her love, and knew she couldn't. All this was in her eyes, in her voice. But she seemed to conquer her emotion by a mighty effort, tried to smother it down, and speak calmly for the sake of her boy.

”And now, after I have suffered by it as I have, is it right, is it just, that I should be compelled to allow my property to be used to make other women's hearts, other mothers' hearts, ache as mine must ache forever?”

”But, my dear madam, the law, as it is now, gives me the right to do as I am doing.”

”I am pleading for justice, right: you have it in your power to grant my prayer. Women have no other weapon they can use, only just to plead, to beg for mercy.”

”O my dear madam! you are quite wrong: you are entirely wrong. Women are the real rulers of the world. They, in reality, rule us men, with a rod of iron. Their dainty white hands, their rosy smiles, are the real autocrats of-of the breakfast-table, and of life.”

You see, he went on, as men used to went on, to females years ago. He forgot that that Alonzo and Melissa style of talkin' to wimmen had almost entirely gone out of fas.h.i.+on. And it was a good deal more stylish now to talk to wimmen as if they wuz human bein's, and men wuz too.

But Cicely looked at him calm and earnest, and says,-

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